


Pieces of Glass

by SkyWillSometimesWrite



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: I dont know how to tag, Magic, accidental mind control, i dont even know whats happening man, i guess ill tag as time goes on?, i only have a vague idea of a plot, season 7, tags will be updated as time goes on, that sounds weird but just trust me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23905831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyWillSometimesWrite/pseuds/SkyWillSometimesWrite
Summary: Scar knew his "magic crystals" were absolutely worthless, just shards of glass he spent way too much time making look good so he could really sell the wizard vibe he was going for this season. The whole thing annoyed Grian, too, so that was an added bonus. It was fun, and Scar didn't really care if Grian didn't play along with his magic bit as easily as some of the other hermits. What Scar wasn't prepared for, though, was finding out that Grian was a huge hypocrite, and the wings that appeared on his back are a dead giveaway.
Relationships: Charles | Grian & GoodTimesWithScar
Comments: 27
Kudos: 212





	1. The Angry-Comforting Mother

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I would very much be lying if I said this work wasn't at least a little inspired by Sekrap's Dimension Reinvention's series. It's so good. Go check them out.
> 
> I only have the vaguest idea of a plot for this story and I'm super unreliable when it comes to writing anything past a first chapter so you've been warned.
> 
> Also I wrote this chapter in like 3 different sittings, all of them being late at night. So I apologize in advance for any weird or inconsistent phrasing.

_Grian: you ready dude?_

The beep from his communicator made him jump, causing him to drop the diamond helmet he had been enchanting. He flinched at the loud clang it made against the floor before picking it up again, looking closer at the small glowing runes etched into it. His Galactic was getting better, he figured since he was able to recognize when the useful enchants were placed on his gear. None of which were on this helmet. He shrugged and fitted it on top of his wizard hat before pulling out his communicator to reply.

_GoodTimeWithScar: You bet! Let’s go get ourselves some wings!_

_iskall85: you two are going into the end? alone? you guys are so going to die._

_Grian: no way. not until i have an elytra in my enderchest_

_Grian: then i can die_

_GoodTimeWithScar: I’d rather avoid dying as much as possible._

_ZombieCleo: can’t wait to see how that goes for you scar_

_Grian: im outside larry_

Sure enough, he heard a rock land on the ground next to him, thrown in from his doorway - that was missing his door, for some reason - and when he looked over the edge of the ladder he saw the iconic red sweater underneath the diamond armor. He didn’t understand how Grian could wear that in the jungle when it was always so hot and humid. Scar was uncomfortable as it was, and he wasn’t even wearing pants! At least, he didn’t, most of the time. The armor was not making him sweat any less over his robe, though.

He quickly scurried down the ladder, jumping the rest of the way onto the slime blocks below to greet Grian with a smile. “Hello!”

“Hey Scar. You ready for this?”’

“Yes! Dude, I miss my wings so much.” Grian chuckled in agreeance and pulled out his communicator, presumably to look up the coordinates for the Stronghold. Then Scar remembered: “Oh before we go, I prepared these for us.”

He handed Grian three small crystals: one green, one red, and one a pale orange. Grian held them in his unoccupied hand, staring at them with a confused glint in his eyes. He looked at them closer, testing how the light reflected off them, then looked at Scar unimpressed. “Bits of glass?”

“What? No! They’re magic crystals!”

“Dude, these are just shards of glass you sanded down. Great craftsmanship, but, like, these are totally worthless.”

“No, they’re not. They’re- they’re magic! See, the red one gives you a health boost, the green one gives a little extra luck, and then the orange one-”

“Just sits uselessly in my inventory taking up valuable end-loot space? Yeah, thanks, but no thanks, dude.” He tossed the crystals back to Scar who scrambled to catch them midair before starting to walk away.

“W-Wait! They’ll be helpful!” He caught up to walk side by side with his friend, holding out the shards to him again. “Come on, Grian, trust your friendly neighborhood wizard, huh? The End’s a dangerous place and we can’t fly to get around yet so we could use all the help we can get, right?”

Grian gave one last look at the “crystals,” then to the man trying to scam him out of inventory space. Scar was giving him _that_ look. That “I can do no wrong and I will win everyone over in the end” look that Scar had realized worked just as well on Grian as it had on Cub and Doc in the past. With a long sigh and an overdramatic groan, he took the glass shards from the wizard. “Fine. But if I run out of room these are the first things getting tossed into the void.”

Grian led them to the stronghold, having gotten the coordinates from Xisuma after he had ventured in with Tango a few days ago. They made idle chat, Scar pointing out little observations, but their trek was mostly silent as Grian was focused on making sure they didn’t get turned around in an extraordinarily unremarkable section of the jungle with no orienting landmarks other than trees, trees, and more trees.

After guiding them through the greenery, a boat ride, and getting only a little turned around in the Stronghold, they stood above the end portal. Scar did one last check through his inventory, making sure he had his water bucket, a pumpkin, some food, and, of course, his magical crystals. Satisfied with his preparedness he looked over at Grian, opening his mouth to ask if he was ready to go, but he stopped when he saw the other man’s glare that looked like he was trying to rip the portal into atoms with his mind.

“Uh, if you stare into it for too long you’ll get dizzy.” Scar offered, noticing how Grian’s glare only faltered when he blinked, morphing into one of poorly hidden concern. “Everything alright?”

“Uh, yeah. Of course it is.” The smile Grian gave was strained and he didn’t look Scar in the eyes as he spoke, glancing between the spot behind him and the portal. “Are we certain that the dragon’s already been killed?”

“I don’t see any reason it wouldn’t be. Usually, if the portal’s activated it means one of the hermits have already gone in.” He paused for a second, but when Grian’s concern didn’t fade he followed up: “That means the dragon’s been defeated, yes.”

“That’s good.” Silence dragged on between them for a few awkward moments before Grian decided to elaborate on that. “W-We don’t have to deal with that, I mean. It’s good we don’t have to deal with that.”

Scar rested a hand on Grian’s armorer shoulder, looking down at him with what he hoped was a gentle, comforting look. “It’s okay to be scared of the End, Grian. It’s a scary place! But that’s why none of us ever go in alone. We watch each other’s backs. And I’ll watch yours with all of my magical ability.” He placed his other hand on his own chest, standing proudly and attempting to fill the other man with his own confidence.

Grian’s eyes grew distant at Scar’s words, their dark color glassing over in a way Scar had never seen before, but it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. Grian gave Scar a small smile, it much less forced than his previous one. “Yeah, you guys are cool like that. Come on, let’s not waste any more time. We have wings to find and flying to be done.” The small hermit’s grin was wide as he gripped Scar’s arm with a firm hand and pulled them both into the starry, inky blackness awaiting them.

Scar wasn’t foreign to the feeling of being transported to the End, the strange tingling, numbing feeling that came with traveling beyond the overworld. It wasn’t like transporting to the Nether, which felt like weights were dropped onto your shoulders and took some time to get used to again if you hadn’t experienced it for longer than a week. The End didn’t feel kinder than the Nether, per se, but it was calmer, at least until you saw the endless void below you that would swallow you and your items up if you made one misstep.

This time, though, as Scar materialized into the dimension he almost believed he stepped into the wrong portal, as an unfamiliar feeling covered him. It pulled at his hair and flowed underneath his armor and circled around his arms. He wasn’t alarmed by it, entranced more than anything, and he felt whatever it was slip down his arms and off the tips of his fingers, leaving him almost reaching for it, as soon as Grian appeared at his side.

Scar stood there, staring dangerously towards the main island from the platform they were on, and tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened. A hand waving in front of his face snapped him out of his trance, his eyes blinking furiously to return the moisture they desperately lacked. He rubbed at them with his hands for a moment but then looked at them and tried to imagine the feeling wrapping itself around his fingers again.

“Scar? Dude? You good?”

Grian’s higher-pitched voice was like a needle popping the balloon of dense fog that had surrounded Scar’s thoughts. He blinked a few more times, shaking his head, and looking down at his friend whose hand was still lingering in the air.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Guess it's been longer than I thought since I was in the End. Caught me off guard, that’s all.” Scar rubbed the back of his neck, patting the hairs down that were still raised.

Grian narrowed his eyes at Scar for a brief moment, as if to deduce if he was lying, before letting out what he hoped was a sigh of relief. Grian turned to face the main island, shoving a pumpkin over his head, and made his way across the rickety path that Tango and Xisuma had made. Scar wordlessly followed behind and paid special attention to where his feet landed.

Hours passed by them, friendly banter was shared, but they were getting tired. Grian all but pushed Scar into building the next bridge, and he carefully placed cobblestone slab one after the other. The mindless task he had done several times in the span of the last few hours left his mind to wander. And it wandered right back to the feeling he had when he entered the dimension. He wanted to know what it was. He had experience with stuff like the Vex in the past, but it had felt nothing like the overwhelming surge of power that he had come to know with that magic.

This had felt gentle, yet purposeful. Powerful, but cradling. It was like a mother’s hug when comforting a guilty child for breaking her favorite vase because they had played baseball inside when she had told them not to. It was unwarranted, unexpected, yet it was comforting, but foreboding because you didn’t know how long it would last or when it would change, if it would change. Scar knew, deep down, he should be terrified, but he could only find intrigue in it all.

“Scar.” Grian’s quiet voice once again grounded him, Scar was noticing this trend, and he looked up only to feel his heart stop in his chest. He was standing on a lone slab that was disconnected from the rest of his bridge. Grian stood on the rest of the bridge, pickaxe in hand and a mischievous grin on his face.

“Oh geez! No, no!” Scar yelped, placing down some more blocks in his white-knuckled grasp. The devilish snickers from the other made a smile creep on his face, and when he looked up he saw the path repaired. “Y’know, I’m a magic man, but I’m not _that_ magic.”

They returned to silence again, it comfortably hanging over them. Scar stood up from his hunched position to stretch his back and felt his stomach twist at the drop that awaited them without the bridge. He glanced over at Grian, the other man lazily staring at the cobblestone beneath him.

“Do you have your lucky crystal on you?” Grian’s eyes shot up to meet Scar’s and his hand rummaged in his pocket until he pulled out the shards of glass that he had given him earlier. Scar smiled and went back to his bridging. “Thank god, I was worried that-” A green glint of color sped past the corner of his vision and his eyes followed it as it fell into the void below, face contorting in what he could only assume was comical fear by the way Grian laughed at him. “No! Dude! That was magic, man! You just brought bad luck upon us!”

“No, no, no. We’ll be fine. What could possibly go wrong?”

Scar’s grips on his blocks tightened at that, something itching at the back of his mind and making his nose wiggle. “At least- At least hold the health one.” He told him, exasperated, as he shook off his uncertainty.

“Okay,” was the simple response he got, and before he could utter thanks he spotted a red dash fly near him.

He knew it was just glass. He knew that, realistically, they didn’t actually do anything. It was all a bit. A little bit of fun annoying Grian by insisting that these shards of glass actually had magical properties. 

And yet he still reached out to grab it.

Something told him to.

Something told him not to let it fall into the void below him.

That something left him as soon as his hand wrapped around the red shard, and his feet slipped from the platform.

“ _Scar-!_ ” was the last thing he heard before the rushing wind invaded his senses and whatever had come over Scar was ripped away as he felt nothing beneath him. He managed to spin and look up at the quickly retracting bridge he had just spent the last few minutes building so this very thing wouldn’t happen.

“Grian! Help!” He didn’t even hear his own useless, panic laced cries as he quickly fell away from the sound towards his painful death. He knew Grian couldn’t do anything. They hadn’t found an elytra yet. Grian was just as helpless as he was in this situation.

Scar gripped the crystal to his chest, wishing it had been the green one instead, and shut his eyes, bracing himself for the suffocating feeling of dying in the void. Why did Grian have to throw away the glass? Why did he have to try and catch it? Why couldn’t he have let it fall? They were useless, anyway. They wouldn’t save him now.

Against the encroaching darkness that was consuming him, a bright yellow light managed to make it’s way past his eyelids. He cracked one eye open but opened both as he saw something shining a bright golden color right behind his now faraway bridge. He distantly felt the feeling of the calm-angry mother tugging at the crystal in his hands.

Something was falling off the bridge now, towards him. It was falling incredibly fast and was incredibly big, and it took Scar way too long to realize that it was his fellow Hermit. Panic spread through his body tenfold at this realization. _No!_ He thought. _Both of us don’t need to die!_ As Grian got closer and closer to Scar at speeds that didn’t make sense, Scar noticed that the other’s back was… glowing?

Before he could make any sense of this observation, the faux wizard felt the breath in his lungs ripped from him, leaving him gasping painfully. He shut his tearing eyes against the pain that blossomed in his chest and attempted to curl in on himself. His mind was overwhelmed with his own near-death, that he completely forgot about Grian’s impending one.

It would be painful, much more than it was now, and long, but at least he would have an excuse to lay in bed for a few days while his internal wounds healed. That was the worst part of dying to the void, how it killed you from the inside out. That and that there was no way to retrieve what you lost. He would have to get all his good gear back, but he was used to that. He distantly realized he would have to come back, unfortunately, and most likely soon if he was going to get an elytra.

It felt like he was being stabbed through the throat, chest, and stomach all at once with a barbed, poison-tipped blade. Part of him wondered if his health boost crystal was actually working and prolonging his pain by healing him. It didn’t really matter, he didn’t think he could get his hands to let go of it at this point if he wanted to.

Next thing he knew, what little breath he had left was knocked out of him and a firm warmth surrounded him. _Huh, well that’s new._ The weightlessness that he had been experiencing had disappeared and a nauseating feeling flipped his stomach as he coughed up his lung trying to breathe again. _Have I already respawned?_

Scar slowly opened his eyes only to be greeted with red, not the comforting purple and brown of his bed in Larry’s shell. He figured that the air was still as thin as it was in the End, because he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He was pressed up against the soft, red whatever, and the hand not holding the crystal gripped it weakly. 

As soon as it felt as if he was finally breathing comfortably again, the air was knocked from him for the third time in what he could only assume was the last ten seconds. He rolled away from whatever he had been by, his armor no doubt denting at the way he bounced along the hard endstone. When he came to a stop he simply stared up at the void-sky and decided to focus on the chorus flowers instead. It took yet more coughing and shaky breaths before he was breathing easily and Scar finally processed what had just happened. Or rather the fact that he had absolutely no idea what had just happened. 

He had just been falling, hadn’t he? He had just been falling, with no elytra, into the void after he basically jumped in after a useless piece of stained glass that his end busting partner, who also had no elytra, had thrown. He had felt himself dying in the void. He knew he had. And yet here he was, lying on the uncomfortable, uneven endstone.

He groaned and slowly propped himself up on his elbows, making a note that he was indeed still holding the red glass in his hand so at least that venture hadn’t been in vain. His head spun at the new orientation but it didn’t last long and he was scanning his surroundings. He spotted the narrow cobble bridge he had built but felt his heart stop when he saw no red-sweater clad, crystal throwing Hermit standing on it. “Grian?” He rasped, his throat raw, as panic started to seep into him.

A groan from his left caught his attention and his head snapped over to look at the culprit and gaped. Propped up on his hands a few blocks away was the familiar, unmistakable features of Grian: red sweater, blonde hair, short stature. Scar wasn’t occupied with the fact that his friend was there completely fine, no that was normal, what  _ wasn’t _ normal was the giant golden feathered wings that sprouted from the small hermit’s back.

Scar’s near death experience was completely forgotten, and he felt what was becoming a familiar sensation tug at the back of his collar when he began connecting pieces without fully understanding how they fit together. Grian was the only other hermit here, and he was clearly the one in front of him. It was undeniable and yet completely unbelievable. Scar had been presumably carried by something red and warm back up to the island he was laying on now from at least 100 meters below it. Grian had a red sweater, was definitely strong enough to carry the twig that was Scar, and had  _ gigantic wings _ that looked more than capable of making the treacherous journey from death.

The other pushed himself up to sit on his knees and his eyes slowly opened. Scar made a strangled noise as he noticed the white glow that faded from them and returned them to their usual dark brown.

Grian’s head snapped over to him. “Scar! Oh my god, Scar are you okay?” His voice was echoing with worry. Literally. There was a reverb to it that garbled his words. Grian must have noticed this since he slapped a hand over his mouth.

“I…” Scar didn’t have words, his mouth dry and mind too blank to think of closing it. He blinked. “Yeah.” He said lamely, his voice pitched three octaves to high.

Silence covered them as Grian seemed hesitant to speak and Scar was still wrapping his mind around everything. Why did Grian have wings? Why had Grian’s eyes been glowing? Why did his voice sound like that? Was all of this actually normal? Did Scar just not see Grian nearly enough during last season to know this about him?

“Uh,” Grian mumbled behind his hand, shoulders falling from his ears when it didn’t come out like a bad feedback loop.

“So,” Scar tacked on, finally closing his mouth. He tried to think of a proper way to go about this but his brain was apparently still fried since all he managed was: “What just happened?”

“I don’t know!” Grian quickly responded, throwing his arms up in the air above him.

“You have _wings_?”

“I just saw you falling and-”

“Is this normal for you?”

“No! Well, I mean, I guess I panicked and-”

“Why were your eyes _glowing_?”

“My eyes were _what_?” Grian’s voice matched Scar’s in a panicked pitch. He sat up on his knees, patting the sides of his head.

“They were glowing. They aren’t anymore though.” Scar quickly reassured him, sitting cross-legged and facing him. They shared a staring contest of sorts, Scar searching for answers and Grian’s expression providing none. “So, wings, huh?”

Grian sat up straighter, head swiveling to look behind him at the appendages that were attached to his back. Scar couldn’t see his face from the angle, but the way he hesitated when reaching back to touch them and how he flinched back when he barely grazed the feathers made him wonder if they hurt. Grian had gotten as close as Scar had been to the void, after all. Scar flipped the red glass in his hand, almost offering it to the other as a way to lighten the mood, but stopped when he remembered it was these stupid things that caused this whole ordeal in the first place. Grian turned away from his wings, hands curled up in his lap. He stared at the endstone and Scar glanced between it and Grian, trying to find whatever it was the other was looking for. He didn’t find it, though, because Grian stood up and offered a hand to help Scar up.

They both seemed shaky as Scar stood, and Grian made sure he didn’t fall as soon as he was on his own two feet again. Looking down at Grian, his wings didn’t look nearly as big. He wondered if they had shrunk or if it had been perspective the entire time. He also noted that the golden color they had been, had dulled significantly to a pale yellow.

“Do you think you can make it back home without falling off another bridge?” Grian asked quietly, a steadying hand still on Scar’s arm as he looked up at him with concern.

“Uh,” Now that Scar was standing, and attention had been dragged away from Grian’s sudden transformation, the weight of what had nearly happened hit him like a falling anvil. His chest and throat still burned, his head pounded with a headache right behind his eyes, and his stomach felt like it was sloshing around inside of him. The hand that held the “crystal” was beginning to cramp and he wiggled the glass into a pocket on his robe under his armor. He took a deep breath in from his nose and let any remaining tension in his body fade and gave Grian as reassuring of a smile as he could manage. “Yeah, I think I’ll be fine.”

Grian looked relieved, giving him a nod. “Good, then you head back.”

“What about you?”

Grian walked back out onto the bridge that Scar had built what felt like hours ago and looked down at it, pulling out some blocks from his inventory. “I’m gonna keep going and see if I can find anything.”

“What? Alone? Grian, there’s a reason we use the buddy system. Heck, you just proved why-”

“Scar, it’s fine. I’ll be fine. You go rest, okay?” Scar opened his mouth to protest but Grian didn’t let him. “I need some time to think, anyways. May as well try and get something out of it in the process.” Scar still wasn’t convinced. He gave Grian a hard stare and watched as the younger man sank in on himself under the scrutiny. He looked down and then back up at Scar, a pleading look in his eyes, and spoke with a quiet voice. “Please, Scar. I’ll be fine.”

Scar gave him the same look he had given Cub and Doc countless times last season when they were working too hard but gave up when the effort made his headache pound and he brought a hand up to rub his temples. He sighed. “Alright, okay, I’ll go home. But you better come see me the second you get back, okay?”

Grian stood up a little straighter, seeming surprised that Scar had agreed. “Okay, Scar, I will.”

Scar turned around the way they came and found the bridge that they had made to get to the current island. He carefully made his way across it and many others as he trekked back to the portal home. He tried putting a pumpkin over his head as an extra safety measure but decided he would risk the angry endermen instead when squinting through the face of the Halloween decoration made his headache worse. He kept his tired eyes on the ground for the most part anyway. Who knew that nearly dying in the void was just as tiring as _actually_ dying in the void?

Before long his feet splashed in water and he risked looking up, smiling happily as he spotted the bedrock circle that would drop him right back into his comfy bed in Larry’s shell. He let himself fall into the portal, embracing the numbness that came with it until he was on top of the purple blanket that he so desperately wanted to curl up in. He had enough of a conscience left to shrug his armor off and even take his robe off, haphazardly throwing it somewhere on the floor. Not waiting a second longer, Scar snuggled up into the soft wool of his bed and drifted to sleep.


	2. Snap, Crackle, Pop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo one month later here is the second chapter finally
> 
> Listen I've been brainstorming for this story and writing this chapter and debating on if I should write it this way but I'm happy with my current plan so here y'all go.
> 
> I will say that y'all's responses have been by far the biggest motivator on my writing this story. So thank y'all so much!!
> 
> This was read over once fully before posting so I might go back and edit more so sorry in advance about typos or mistakes
> 
> And last thing I want to say is that half this chapter is the ending half of the last chapter but different. You'll see. I liked this idea too much so take it or leave it I guess.

“Scar, no! _ ” _ Grian felt his voice crack at his scream, watching as Scar leaned over the edge just a little too far. He watched in slow motion how Scar’s hand wrapped around the crystal he threw off the edge, and how Scar followed its deadly path of no return. He watched as Scar’s green eyes met his, wide with fear, as he fell farther and farther away.

“ _ Grian! Help! _ ” 

Grian stood stock still, eyes unblinking as he watched Scar’s form get smaller and smaller, his voice already sounding dangerously distant. What had he done? Why had he thrown that crystal? Why had Scar tried to catch it?

He had to help Scar. He had to. But how? He didn’t have an elytra yet so he couldn’t exactly fly down and grab him. Could he build down? That was difficult to do normally, but doing it faster than the pull of the void was definitely impossible. He had to think. Scar would die if he didn’t do anything. He needed to help Scar. He had to. He had to.  _ He had to _ .

His hands scratched at the front of his chestplate, a pain beginning to blossom in his chest as Scar’s words rattled in his brain. The End wasn’t known for any extreme temperatures, but Grian felt like he was in the Nether with how heat spread itself through his body. His breathing became ragged as everything started to become far too much. A bright white light began to invade the corners of his vision and he couldn’t help but shut his eyes against it.

Something in the back of his head snapped. Something he had long forgotten. Something he didn’t realize he still had.

He heard a cracking noise quietly behind his thoughts and a blinding yellow color forced his eyes open as his back arched against the force that dragged him off the edge of the bridge. He barely registered that he was falling until he caught sight of Scar again, a ball of shining diamond armor against the inky black of the void.

_ I have to help Scar. _

That single thought overpowered his mind and he was reorienting himself in the air. Wings beat downward, sending Grian soaring towards Scar faster than the pull of the void itself. After only a few seconds of falling he felt his breath leave his lungs and he coughed, bringing his arm over his mouth as if he could somehow stop the air from leaving him. Black dots swirled around his vision and he blinked against it, trying to see the different nauseating black of the void instead. The sudden pressure difference made his ears pop painfully but he was so close, just a little farther.

His arms reached downward and made contact with the purple fabric of Scar’s wizard robe, allowing Grian to pull him towards him and hold the curled up wizard to his chest as securely as possible. His already struggling breath hitched and pain coursed through his back as the wings flapped forcefully, slowing his quick descent and preparing to launch him upwards towards the yellow islands that looked miles away with his swaying vision. He adjusted his grip on Scar’s form, making sure there was no risk of dropping him as he began the too slow rise up. Grian knew he was fairly strong, and he prided himself on being able to pick up most of the hermits (it was quite comical when he would hold up someone like Mumbo or Xisuma who was almost a foot taller than him), but between the void sapping his strength and the fatigue from flying he worried that he could drop Scar at any second. The thought made him sick.

After what felt like ten minutes, Grian was able to more or less throw Scar onto the closest End island, and he barely got himself over the stone before the wings gave out and he face-planted into the ground. His ears rang and his back throbbed through the wings that were laying limply on his back and dragging him down. He closed his eyes at the swirling and shifting end stone underneath him giving him a headache and he shakily managed to use his arms to push himself up. He coughed, forcing the fresh but too-thin air into his lungs and groaned at the way it left his throat scratchy.

He slowly opened his eyes, blinking to focus his blurry vision. He pushed himself up to sit on his knees and took in a deep breath, calming the rest of his nerves. He heard a noise to his left and his head snapped over, worried flooding him when he saw Scar staring at him with wide eyes.

“Scar! Oh my god, Scar are you okay?” Grian’s own eyes widened at the way his voice echoed in his head and bounced off the end stone and he slapped a hand over his mouth. He raised his shoulders to his ears, trying to block out the unnerving reverb of his own voice. He barely contained a whimper at Scar’s high-pitched “yeah” in response, confirming he noticed it too. Why was his voice doing that? Had his voice ever done that before? He took a deep breath, waiting a few long moments before he mumbled behind his hand. “Uh,” he let himself relax when he heard his voice back to normal.

“So,” was Scar’s helpful response. And then the floodgates opened. “What just happened?”

“I don’t know!” Was his genuine response, anxiety filling his body again as he threw his hands up in the air.

“You have  _ wings _ ?”

“I just saw you falling and-”

“Is this normal for you?”

“No! Well, I mean, I guess I panicked and-”

“Why were your eyes  _ glowing _ ?”

“My eyes were  _ what _ ?” Grian’s voice raised in pitch and he patted the sides of his head as if he could feel the light his eyes had supposedly been giving off.

“They were glowing. They aren’t anymore though.” Scar quickly reassured him, sitting cross-legged and facing him. They stared at each other, but Grian’s mind was occupied with what the hell was happening to him. “So, wings, huh?”

His back straightened at that reminder. His head spun around to look at the faintly glowing feathers that perked up over his shoulder, their golden color slowly giving way to reveal a much more tame yellow. They felt lighter on his back since he landed to the point where he completely forgot he had them, instinctively folding them against his back. He extended one barely, reaching a hand up to graze over the feathers and he flinched at how the small movement sent a sharp pain down his spine. He probably pulled a muscle, considering he got them barely ten minutes ago and had already overexerted himself. He let the wing settle back into its place and turned back towards Scar, studying his folded hands in his lap. 

Why was this happening? What caused these wings to sprout out of his back? Did Scar do it somehow with his magic? Did Scar actually have magic? Could Scar even  _ do _ that with magic he maybe had? Was it an effect of the End in this new world? Did they stumble upon something they shouldn’t have and Xisuma didn’t know when he decided they would move here? These all seemed like really loaded questions.

Grian glanced up, noticing Scar was still sitting across from him. Right. First things first, he isn’t going to be able to focus on anything until he knows Scar is safe. He pushes himself up from the end stone, dusting off his diamond leggings until he sees the faint glimmer of the enchantment on them, and takes the steps towards Scar. He manages a small smile as the other takes his hand, pulling him up to his feet and Grian makes sure he doesn’t fall over

“Do you think you can make it back home without falling off another bridge?” Grian asked quietly, a steadying hand still on Scar’s arm as he looked up at him with concern.

“Uh,” The other took a moment, taking a deep breath in through his nose. “Yeah, I think I’ll be fine.”

Relieved, Grian gave him a nod before turning away from him. “Good, then you head back.”

“What about you?”

Grian walked back out onto the bridge that Scar had built and looked down at it, pulling out some blocks from his inventory. “I’m gonna keep going and see if I can find anything.”

“What? Alone? Grian, there’s a reason we use the buddy system. Heck, you just proved why-”

He grit his teeth, cursing that his friends were so caring. “Scar, it’s fine. I’ll be fine. You go rest, okay?” Scar opened his mouth to protest but Grian didn’t let him. “I need some time to think, anyways. May as well try and get something out of it in the process.” He could tell he wasn’t convinced by the hard stare he gave him. Grian felt himself shrink under the gaze, chin trying to burrow into the turtleneck of his sweater and he looked away. He steeled his nerves, looking back at Scar with the most genuine look he could and practically whispered. “Please, Scar. I’ll be fine.”

Scar’s gaze didn’t falter but eventually he gave in, sighing as he rubbed his temples. “Alright, okay, I’ll go home. But you better come see me the second you get back, okay?”

Something familiar popped in the back of his mind and stung ever so slightly on his right hip. His back straightened and the wings tensed painfully against his back but he was too occupied to really care. He blinked. “Okay Scar, I will.” His voice came out on its own.

Grian was still staring, watching as Scar turned away from him and made his way slowly back to and over the bridge that they had made to get to the current island. He blinked a couple more times, shaking the fog that had curled its way around his head as he tried to figure out what had just happened.

His eye caught a glint of something aqua on the cobblestone he was standing precariously on, and his attention turned fully on to figuring out what it was. He kneeled down to look at it closer before he picked up, carefully noting how pointy it was. He dropped the piece onto his other hand that was close to his chest, eyes squinting to get a better look at it. 

And then he noticed it.

He could very clearly see the red of his sweater covering his chest.

His mind worked way too slow to put two and two together, but his eyes widened and mouth gaped at something that felt obvious and slightly terrifying all together.

He was holding a piece of his chestplate. The chestplate that he had been wearing before Scar fell. The chestplate that he realized wouldn’t have allowed the wings to move freely. So, he supposed, the wings forced the chestplate out of their way. And the way to do that was by  _ completely shattering it _ . The wings on his back completely shattered a full diamond chestplate with unbreaking magic imbued into it in a matter of seconds.

Grian closed his mouth, swallowing hard as he glanced back at the now terrifying feathered appendages that had made his back their home.  _ How? _ Was the main question that kept resurfacing in his mind.  _ How? _ And  _ Why _ ? 

Why was this happening to him? Why was this happening now? And what had he done to cause it?

He placed the diamond shard into his inventory, gripping cobblestone slabs in his hands instead, and moved towards where Scar had been building out from. He felt his head swirl and his stomach drop as he looked over the edge and he had to close his eyes to keep himself from vomiting then and there. He couldn’t do this. Not like this. Not after what had just happened.

Maybe he should go back. Catch up with Scar and then come back at a later time when he wasn’t making decisions based off the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Then the adrenaline gave him an idea. He rolled his shoulders a few times and gritted his teeth against the pain that pulled at his back. Grian took a deep breath and bit his lip as he forced the wings to spread open to their full length. He stumbled back a step at the shift in weight, but caught himself, and made sure his feet were stable on the ground before he tried lifting the wings up.

“Now or never,” he muttered, keeping his eyes shut as he beat the wings down. He yelped as he shot into the air, his eyes opening and panic flooding his body as he realized he was now falling back towards the cobblestone bridge from what had to be at least twenty feet in the air. He braced for impact, covering his face with his arms, but he felt the wings move on their own. He landed rather gently, albeit clumsy.

So clumsy, in fact, that he tripped over his own feet, and right off the edge of the bridge.

He screamed as he felt nothing solid beneath his feet and desperately reached up to grab the bridge, only managing to painfully scrape his fingertips on a pebble. _Not again!_ _Okay, okay, Grian, calm down. Calm down. Focus._ He forced his eyes shut again, willing the wings out from their tense, equally scared position. _Come on, come on!_

Suddenly, he wasn’t falling anymore. 

He opened one eye then braved both as he realized that the wings were keeping him suspended in the air with small, graceful movements. He breathed a laugh, looking back up at the once again distance bridge and islands. He looked forward, towards where he had planned on going in the first place and then took one glance at the wings again. He nodded to himself before thrusting the wings down with a powerful beat, propelling him towards the islands further out.

Grian smiled at the feeling of the air billowing against his face as he soared through the End. He didn’t feel steady on the wings -- it was nothing like an elytra -- but he felt that same thrill that he usually did when flying. He whooped, trying to do a twirl in the air and choked when he got tangled up in the wings, causing him to tumble downwards onto an island. 

He laughed, pulling himself off the ground and looked up, spotting the magnificent End City that stood before him. He beamed when he spotted the ship, crouching down and jumping up with the flap of the wings this time. He was landing gracefully on top of the vessel in seconds, letting the wings fold against his back as he walked down the steps toward the treasure he was looking for. 

His eyes immediately locked on to the elytra hanging on the wall, and he dug in his inventory for his sword as he also spotted the nuisance shulker. He dully noted that the shulker didn’t fire any bullets at Grian as he killed it, pocketing the shells from the creature for himself at a later date. He placed his sword on its spot on his hip and delicately grabbed the artificial wings from their perch. 

Elytra always had this unique feel to them, the fabric thin but strong, but would still tear if overused. The grey material was silky smooth downwards, but felt like sandpaper upwards and left little trails of discoloration. He ran his fingers down the wings, smiling at the welcome nostalgia that came with it.

He was rudely reminded that he wouldn’t get the chance to relive those memories any time soon as he felt his back muscles tense up in a painful cramp. He was finally calm for the first time in hours, and his body was through with letting him get away with overworking it. He let out a silent scream as he curled in on himself, stretching the muscles attached to the wings even further and doubling the pain. 

He cursed, trying to think through the constant, throbbing pain on what to do. He tried to force the muscles to relax but couldn’t quite get the wings to move in the right way and ended up with the left one awkwardly half-extended. While turning his head to look at it in disgust he caught sight of a glimmering pink in the staircase of the ship.

_ The potions! _ He always took those potions these ships held for granted, but right now he couldn’t be more grateful. He hobbled over, hissing as the extended wing grazed the wall he was using for support up the stairs. He grabbed the bottle and nearly dropped it trying to get the cork out, but managed to get the majority of the contents into his mouth rather than dribbling down his chin as if he was an overgrown toddler. He instantly felt the pain dull, his body finally relaxing while it’s nerves weren’t being attacked by two foreign appendages and he fell back on his butt. He sat there, taking in deep breaths as the wings hung limply and almost dragged him back down the stairs. He let the empty bottle roll away from his hand and he instead picked up the elytra that he had dropped, he closed his eyes and let the feel of the fabric comfort him.

This had to be the most terrifying and physically exhausting experience he’s had since Demise last season. Sure, cutting down jungle trees and boating everywhere was tiring and annoying, but he didn’t think anything would ever compare to the rollercoaster he’s been on in the last hour or so. He was going to sleep for at least a week when he got back to his nice, safe, comfortable hobbit hole.

Speaking of which, he should start heading home. He got what he was looking for, an elytra for Scar, so there wasn’t really any reason to stay any longer. Grian didn’t  _ want  _ to stay any longer. So, he used the block the brewing stand was on to stand up, put the elytra away in his inventory, and grabbed the second healing potion just in case, before moving slowly up the stairs to the top of the ship. He made his way to the bow of the ship, looking over the edge at the yellow ground and endless void that made his vision swirl and he quickly looked away. How the hell was he going to get down?

As he went over his options he carefully made his way over to and grabbed the dragon head from its perch. He could try and use the elytra to glide down but he didn’t know if he could strap it on correctly to make it effective, let alone control it. He could try flying again but one twitch of the wings made him quickly rule that out. The safest, but totally not, was to try and anger an enderman on the ground so it teleported up to him. Then he could kill it, grab the enderpearl, and get down. Simple enough.

He steeled himself, sword in hand, and looked out over the edge again to spot a dot of black against the yellow endstone. He stared at one intently and began to wonder if endermen had a certain range of aggravation. Maybe they didn’t mind being stared at, as long as you weren’t right nearby.

Grian’s theory was quickly proved wrong, though, as he heard that familiar “ _ fwoop _ ” sound behind him and the telltale screech of an angry enderman. He swung his sword around, slicing at the monster’s legs. It screamed at him louder in response and swiped its long arms at him. With a duck under them and one leap forward, he impaled the creature and swiped the enderpearl from the smoke that arose from its dissipating body.

He once again looked over the edge and threw the enderpearl safely in the middle of the island. He didn’t hear the pearl shatter on the ground but he knew it had as nausea overwhelmed him and he saw the endstone beneath his feet. When he made sure he wasn’t about to puke he blinked out over towards the direction he came from and realized he hadn’t made a bridge to get back. 

He groaned, realizing he has three options to get back and he isn’t too keen on any of them. He could either build his way back which would surely take a few hours, enderpearl his way back and get super sick in the process, or he could fly back. He stretched the wings out behind him, wincing at the sting they gave him but satisfied that they weren’t unbearably tense anymore. All he had to do was fly back to the bridges. He could do that. 

He took in a deep breath, flapping the wings a few times without taking off and hissing at how they moved on his back.  _ I can do this. I can do this. It’s not that far. I’ll be fine.  _ He swung his arms back and forth, psyching himself up, and before he could think any better he ran towards the ledge of the island. He shut his eyes, leaping off the edge with a yell and forcing the wings to move.

Grian didn’t open his eyes until he knew he was in the air, managing to narrowly avoid crashing into a chorus flower. His back still stung but it was more bearable now that he had a rhythm. He decided to focus all of his attention on scanning the ground for cobblestone bridges and not on the physical state his entire body was in, in case it just decided to completely give out while he was still in the air.

Luckily for him, he spotted the last cobblestone bridge sooner than he had thought and stumbled into a landing on the connected island, quickly chugging the second potion and sighing as the wings hung limply on his back once again. Now all he had to do was the easiest part: walk back to the portal.

Without a second thought, he began the hours-long trek back. His exhausted mind was quiet, too tired for any coherent string of thoughts when he wasn’t actively searching for anything to think about. He wouldn’t even try to deny the tears that came to his eyes when he stepped in water and he registered that he was on the main island at last.  _ Finally. _

He stops right before the bedrock of the portal, staring down into the inky blackness and feeling familiar dread sweep over him. A thought pulled at the back of his brain, one he couldn’t seem to shake despite the years that have passed and proved it wrong.

What if he didn’t end up in Hermitcraft when he went through?

He huffed a laugh at his thinking, hands supporting him as he leaned on the rough bedrock. He could almost see himself in the darkness of the portal, the amalgamations of the static stars tricking his eyes. He closed his eyes and climbed up so that he could step into the portal. He had nothing to worry about. 

The wings weighed heavily on his back as he stepped into the portal, bracing himself against the unnerving numbing feeling that came with it. He was scared to open his eyes, but the shift in air pressure and warm temperature, along with how the wings squished into the mattress underneath him reassured him that he was indeed back home. 

Grian didn’t want to get up, finally in a position to rest from the crazy adventure he had just had. He wanted nothing more than to lay there and fall asleep. But he couldn’t. He felt a nagging, pulling sensation on his body as he sat up in his bed, urging him to go out the door as if he had an errand to run that he couldn’t remember.

_ “You better come see me the second you get back, okay?” _

Right. Scar wanted him to go see him. He pushed the stray hair that had fallen into his face out of his line of sight and trudged over and out the door. Slowly but surely, he stood in front of Larry, staring at the ladder up as if it had personally offended him and his tired body. Once he was up the last rung and entered the shell without a door, he couldn’t suppress a groan at the second ladder he would have to climb. Scar better be up there.

He was. Grian poked his head up through the floor, spotting the snoozing wizard underneath his purple covers with his armor and robe strewed about the room. He pulled himself up, debating whether or not he should wake Scar up. If he did, that might mean it would take longer for him to get to sleep and that just didn’t sound like it was worth it at the moment. If Scar got mad at him, he’d deal with it later.

He takes the elytra out of his inventory and places it on a nearby chest that he thinks Scar will see and rummages around his stuff to find something to write a quick note on. Satisfied, Grian doesn’t hesitate making his way back to his hobbit hole and doesn’t bother taking off his armor before face planting into the soft cover and allowing sleep to overtake him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the end was a little rushed because I was so close and I just wanted to finish it, and also screw consistent tense usage because different writing sessions really mess me up with that. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed! I promise, even if it takes me another month, y'all will get a chapter three. Because that one has some fun stuff that I'm looking forward to writing.
> 
> I always enjoy reading your comments so thank you in advance for leaving them!!

**Author's Note:**

> Want to come yell at me about this fic? I'd love to hear what you think and answer any questions!  
> https://skywillsometimewrite.tumblr.com/
> 
> Remember to drink some water, get plenty of rest, and know that I think you're incredible! <3


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